


Good Enough

by Henndra



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-13
Updated: 2016-01-13
Packaged: 2018-05-13 18:25:46
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,913
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5712541
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Henndra/pseuds/Henndra
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Draco feels as if he will never be good enough for Harry Potter. Harry will work at anything to matter sure he knows he is.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Good Enough

He was getting sick of this, he would draw back every time, thinking that Harry couldn’t see it. But he did, clearer and quicker every time. Harry would coax him back, back to his bed, but every time he felt as they were about to break through… something, Draco would withdraw back into his shell, back away from him. He wouldn’t speak to him, wouldn’t take his owls. The first time it happened Harry had hunted him down, backed him up against a wall, quite literally, and dragged him back to his bed.  
At first Harry had thought it was a game. Now he knew he was wrong.  
Draco was at the Manor. He didn’t like going back there but it’d been the longest so far that Harry had been without him since this whole thing began, he couldn’t find him anywhere and the only place left that Draco had, that was this untraceable was Malfoy Manor.   
The problem was, how to get inside. How to get past the wards, how to plot the unplottable. The last time Harry had been at Malfoy Manor, well, was the only time he had been at Malfoy Manor. He didn’t like to dwell on such memories.

“I’m not quite sure what you are asking me Mr.Potter,” Narcissa Malfoy sat on a high-backed armchair, sitting in the parlour of her French Cottage. She had moved here after her probationary period, after her husband Lucius had died in prison and after she had given up all hope of being forgiven by her sister, Andromeda. She was not hard to find.  
“I just wanted to know if you’d seen Draco, that’s all.” Harry sat opposite her in an equally high-backed armchair, ankles crossed, nursing a cup and saucer of English he had politely taken. “This isn’t from the DMLE, this is just me asking. Mrs. Malfoy, I know how much you’re son means to you. He is all you have left. I’m just worried about him that’s all.”  
Her face gave nothing away, but if one were to look closer past her composed exterior, you could see the slight twitch near the age-lines of her eyes, the nervousness of her body trying not to frown. “I haven’t spoken to my son since he took up with you Mr.Potter.”  
Well the cat was out of the bag then.  
“Don’t think that I don’t know why you are here, what I mean is, I am not sure what you mean by asking me. I haven’t spoken to him, he hasn’t replied to any of my letters.” She took a dainty sip from her own cup, holding her gaze upon him as if challenging him somehow.  
“At the moment, he is not answering mine either,” Harry sat the saucer down. “He does this sometimes but this, this feels different. He’s never been this hard to find, he’s never stayed hidden for this long.”  
“You care about him?” Narcissa sat up even straighter if possible, as if this were a sudden realization.  
Harry snorted, “You tell him that. He never seems to get it when I try.” He swallowed and then went quiet, “I think he’s hiding out in the Manor. That’s why I’ve come, I need to know if there is anyway I can get to him.”  
Narcissa’s cup rattled a little in her hand as she placed it back down into her saucer. She breathed deeply as she set it aside along next to Harry’s. She stood up, proud and tall in her plain robes. He rose with her, as it seemed polite and he was never quite sure with these things.  
“He should not be in that place.” She said softly, speaking purely through nerve if nothing else, “There is only one way you can get there Mr.Potter.”  
He crooked an eyebrow at her but she ignored his confusion instead opting to grabbing onto his shoulder and whispering vehemently. “On the arm of a Malfoy of course.”  
They apparated. 

When Harry landed and the gut wrenching nausea subsided another pop resounded through the empty dusty room. Narcissa had left.   
It was a reminder he realized, it was tainted with Tom Riddle. Walking from the room he was in, he traversed what he discovered later to be the west wing. It was all desolate, dead and in a way forgotten. After the war, no one had come home to rebuild it, to refurbish it. It was as lifeless as Voldemort had made it.   
Harry’s gut wrenched once more. To prefer this place, to be in the headspace where being here was better than being anywhere else… Harry decided he needed to hurry.   
He stormed his way through the nearest door and made his way through all the rooms that followed.   
A sound resonated through the empty halls of the manor halting Harry to the spot where he stood. Draco! Harry tore up the next flight of steps he saw and followed as another sound scuffled along in echoes.   
“Fuck!” A harsh whisper, Draco was definitely here and Harry’s heart lightened in the mere idea of his lover swearing in his old country home. After a week had turned into three and three had turned into more, Harry had begun to worry that maybe he wasn’t hiding at all but was… no! But he was alive and he was swearing in what turns out to be a bedroom.   
His bedroom. 

“Mother.” Draco ground out as soon as he recognized Harry in the doorway. It wasn’t a question but a confirmation, an obvious statement.  
“Draco!” Harry began, his voice more haggard than he had hoped to have sounded but what could he do.  
“You should go Potter, there’s nothing for you here.” Draco looked down at something woolen in his hands, dropping them onto a trunk at the foot of the bed. The bed looked to be the only thing in perhaps the whole manor that was clean of dust.   
So he had been hiding here like Harry had suspected.   
“Draco, come home with me.”  
“No.” Draco replied.  
“Draco-”  
“Potter, I will not go back with you, find someone else to sleep with.” There was no emotion in Draco’s voice and it chilled Harry a little. Draco was being so controlled and he knew what that meant for him.   
“Draco please, come back home, to our home.”  
Draco’s gaze snapped back at him with venom searing his face, “Our home?” He cried, his initial venom breaking out into more of a sneer. “We do not share a home Potter! We shared a few good times that was all. As I said, go find someone else to fuck!”  
“Draco please! You don’t mean that, you know that’s not what it was. It was more than that,” Harry sounded pathetic he knew, but after two years on and off he was sick of responding to Draco’s moods with untempered anger. It got him nowhere in the past after all. “You love me, Draco, I know you do!”  
“Don’t tell me what I fucking feel Potter!” Draco snapped, turning on him once more. “No one can tell me what to do! Not anymore! So take your pity fuck, take your love declarations and go fuck yourself!”  
The air was cold in the Manor. Harry noticed that now. They were both silent, Harry couldn’t think of anything Draco wouldn’t counter, wouldn’t think of anything that Draco couldn’t fight back against. Except:  
“I love you.”  
Draco’s chest rose, “Yeah well you shouldn’t.”  
“Why? Because you don’t love me? Well fuck you too Draco, you can’t tell me how to feel either!” Harry snapped, trying to calm the anger that was beginning to peek through after all. “I’ll love you, even if you don’t want me to. I’ll love you until I forget how to. There is nothing you can do about it!”  
...  
“Fuck!” Draco sighed, turning to sit down on the bed, running his hands over his face tiredly.   
Harry edged closer, his instinct was to reach for Draco, to calm him, run his hands up and down his lover back, run his fingertips up and down his sides until Draco sighed with contentment and goosebumps crept over his skin deliciously. Instead he chose to place a solid hand on Draco’s nearest shoulder, waking him up from his somber reflection.  
“You should go Harry, I’m no good for you.” Draco sighed, Harry sighed too, slumping down next to him on the bed. “I’m no good for you, everyone thinks so. They’ll see you with someone better than me. Someone as perfect and golden, I’m sure.” Draco whispered, his anger broken.  
“Draco please, stop it. I don’t care about what everyone else thinks, I never have. You know this, we’ve laughed about this before. Remember?” Harry tried a smile to lighten the mood but it just seemed to wound Draco further.   
Draco pulled back from him edging his body across the bed as if Harry’s presence pained him.   
“What is it? What have I done? I thought we’d worked through the scars. I thought we were okay? Why is it, why is it that you can’t stand to be near me now? Why do you keep running away from me?” Harry’s voice broke but he reigned himself in before anymore emotions unwillingly spilt out. “Have I hurt you? Was I bad to you? What can I do to fix this?”  
Draco seemed close to agony, sniffling into his face-covering sleeve.  
“Is it just that you don’t love me anymore? Or maybe never did? Fuck Draco talk to me! Talk to me!?” He was shouting, his heart was palpably aching in his chest like he was about to have a nervous breakdown. “FUCK!” His magic tore through the room, sending all that was not the bed colliding into the nearest offending wall as if effected by a tidal wave of magic.   
Harry hated losing control of his magic. He always had. He tried clearing his mind, tried breathing through his nose, tried to ignore the niggling feeling in his stomach telling him he was never getting Draco back after all.   
Harry almost didn’t notice the two hands upon both of his shoulders, at first. Eyes closed he was desperately trying to find footing within himself but as soon as he realized whom those hands belonged to everything snapped into place.   
“Harry, husssh! It’ll be okay, just breath. Clear your mind just like Heinzler told you to.”  
“It’s never going to be okay Draco. If I don’t have you, it’ll never be okay again.” Harry chuckled darkly as if laughing at the joke his own life had become.   
“You don’t mean that Potter. You’ll find someone shiney and new and better… and perfect.” Draco chuckled nervously behind Harry’s ear, the proximity sending shivers down his spine.   
“I don’t need perfect Draco. What’s the point in that?” Harry said off-handedly.  
“What?” Draco’s grip of him froze.  
“Perfect. It doesn’t exist Draco. Everyone that ever walked this world is riddled with holes. All you ever need in a person is someone who sees all of you, good and bad and loves you in spite or even because of those things.”  
“Harry!” Draco never called him that.   
Harry turned to look at him then, where the fuck had that come from. “Excuse me?”  
“What?” Draco asked, confused again.  
“What did you call me?”  
“Your name…?”  
“You never call me Harry. Unless it’s followed by ‘Potter’ and usually only ever in reference to me, not actually at me. We’ve been doing this for how long now, this is the first time you’ve ever called me Harry!”   
Draco smiled at him, the kind of smile that had light and lightness strewn through it, he threw himself down upon Harry who only just caught him and his mouth. Draco smothered a warm soft kiss into Harry’s lips.   
He’d missed this, his mouth, the feel of it, the familiar feel of him. The warmth of his embrace around him. He missed everything and he ached as Draco pulled his lips away from him once more, except Draco was still smiling.  
“And do you love me, in this way? Do you love me for everything that I am?” Draco’s whole face was alight as he spoke, it was heart achingly endearing.   
“Of course I- Oh! Draco! Oh fuck! Oh Draco!” Harry rushed him this time, forcing his kisses onto him, cradling Draco in his lap, smothering him with little lip shaped apologies. “You are wonderful Draco. You are good enough! You are loved.” He murmured into Draco’s neck, he felt Draco’s chest shake and he clung onto him tighter by the rump of his arse. “You make mistakes and you can be an asshole at times. You are so unbelievably stubborn!” Harry smiled, “Matched only in stubbornness by me of course. You steal the covers when it’s cold and always leave half drunk cups of tea around the flat.” They both laughed and Draco snorted a little. “Yeah, we fought a war and you did unthinkable things, and went through unthinkable things but you came out alive and I know sometimes you don’t like that you did and sometimes you feel guilty because you are so glad you did. I’m so glad you did Draco because I love you.”  
“Harry,” Draco craned his neck down, pulling at Harry’s face with both hands, eyeing him cautiously. “You are probably an idiot... but that’s okay because I’ll still love you for it.”  
Harry exhaled a nervous gasp of relief and threw them both into the pillows behind Draco’s head. He plastered Draco with kisses, all over his mouth, his jawline, the ticklish spot near his ear before traversing down Draco’s neck, suckling on his collarbone obsessively.   
“Harry, Harry, Harry..” Draco murmured in worship as if finally allowing himself to say his lovers name.   
Harry smiled as they adjusted, both ripping off the shirt of the other’s back. “I love you.” Harry smiled, looking down at Draco again, his pale form beneath him, both alluring and familiar, spurning renewed lust through him. He lashed Draco with kisses and suckling nips up and down his chest, teasing only briefly at Draco’s nipples before gliding low along to his hips.   
“Harry, please.” Draco managed evenly.  
Harry pulled at Draco’s pants, pulling off everything in one scoop of his hands and shucking them off onto the floor. He hovered for a moment, placing a kiss on Draco’s waiting lips before shucking off his own.   
“You can’t leave me again, you realize this right?” Harry laughed as he lined up their bodies, grinding tentatively at first, eliciting a soft moan from Draco.   
“I can only try.” Draco managed, smiling into a second thrust with, “I’m not perfect you know.”  
Harry returned the smile, quickening the pace, kissing Draco with all the aching unfulfilled passion he’d kept bottled up in his absence.   
Harry murmured a protection spell and Draco felt it tingle along the tip of his head run down the the base of his cock. He moaned at the warmth of Harry’s magic. Harry murmured again and started preparing himself.   
“Harry, let me help please.” Draco leaned up to him, pressing a chaste kiss against the side of his chin.   
Harry murmured the spell once more and cried out as they both fingered him open, together.   
When Draco’s cock finally breached him, Harry felt strangely at peace, in place and connected. He felt full of Draco as if, if he really tried, he could feel Draco’s heartbeat beneath him. So he moved.  
He rose slowly up before heavily dropping down again. Draco clinged onto Harry’s hips pulling him forward, grinding Harry up against him. Harry repeated the action until they were both lost upon the high of momentum. The force of their bodies colliding with each other, the rhythm their bodies made driving Harry closer to the precipice of climax.  
“Draco.” Harry whined through his breathy moans, who nodded in understanding, forcing his body up higher, to control the pace, to pound harder and mercilessly into Harry who was losing himself and all control. Harry frantically pumped his cock into his fist. The breathy grunts of Draco’s efforts turning him on, driving him crazy until he was spilling out onto his hand and down all over Draco’s chest.   
His body seized up as the orgasm hit. Clamping, contracting, milking come from him.  
Draco cried out soon after, driving in a higher thrust, filling Harry once more. 

“Tell me this isn’t a mistake Harry. Tell me you aren’t going to wake up one day and decide I’m too dark for you. That you won’t stop.” Draco lay a cautious hand upon Harry’s spent thigh beside him.   
Harry, having collapsed beside Draco on the bed sometime before, turned to look at Draco contently. “You aren’t as dark as you think you are. Nobody isn’t without their shadows Draco. I’ll love you for as long as you let me.”  
“Oh yeah?” Draco smirked, nudging into Harry’s side with his own.  
“Oh yeah, just let me recover a little bit yeah?” Harry laughed, catching the innuendo. “Just promise me one thing.”  
“Anything.” Draco promised earnestly.   
Harry considered Draco’s face seriously for a while, trying to etch his lover's face perfectly in his own mind to think on later. He happened to adore the look of ‘post-coital Draco’ as much as ‘coital Draco’.   
“Talk to your fucking mother yeah?” Harry laughed breaking any remaining tension from the room.


End file.
